


The Liar's End

by shaeolaura



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:48:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15312843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaeolaura/pseuds/shaeolaura
Summary: Virgil's but alerts him to the presence of an issue in the mind palace. He follows that feeling to find... Deceit?But he doesn't seem to be Deceit anymore.AN: I love Deceit, this isn't hate, just angst.





	1. The Tug of Dread

It was early morning when Virgil first felt the tendrils of fear creep into him. The clock barely cleared three, and still the Side could not sleep, such was the dread that followed him.

He knew something was going to happen, even if he didn’t know what - so when the hooks of terror imbedded themselves into his heart and latched onto his stomach, pulling him into the common area, Virgil didn’t question it. If there was one thing he trusted, it was his intuition.

The fear was not his. The difference, he had worked out, was that your own fear weighed you down, like chains tied to an anchor - a ball and chain hanging from your heart and pushing down on your stomach. Someone else’s fear was like a distress signal, a rope tied around your heart that gently pulled in the direction of distress.

Virgil always knew when someone else was scared. He could feel it in the same way that Patton could feel emotions in the air, or Deceit could taste lies.

The common rooms were dark, lit only by the faint light coming from the stars Roman had painted on the ceiling after Logan started getting interested in Astronomy. In the starlight, the shadows seemed deeper, but Virgil could set aside his own unease, because someone out there was so scared that Virgil could hardly feel anything other than his heart being almost pulled out of his chest and his feet brushing over the ground as he disregarded the danger of running in the dark in favour of finding out who was so _terrified_ that he hadn’t been able to sleep all night.

So terrified that Virgil couldn’t hear anything other than the drumming of his own heart, going a million miles a minute.

Virgil focused on turning on the lights, once the pull on his heart stopped insisting that he get _closer_. All one had to do to turn on the lights in the commons was focus on the concept, but he wasn’t all that surprised that the room was dark before he turned them on - not with the amount of fear thickening the air. It was hard to focus on anything when you were that scared.

The faint luminescence of the stars was overpowered by the blinding, uniform light that switched on in one blazing second.

Once the spots had cleared from his vision, Virgil could see just _why_ there was so much fear in the air - as well as _who_ the fear was radiating from.

Underneath the curtains, a certain snake was curled up, clutching his chest. Deceit’s lungs were working overtime, trying to get any semblance of oxygen into his system, and in the process, stopping any from being used.

It was a brutal cycle. One Virgil had been through many times himself. One Thomas had been through, because of him.

As much as Virgil hated the snake, he was reluctant to leave _anyone_ to fend off a panic attack by themselves. That, and he could hardly breathe himself. The air was heavy, weighed down by the tangible terror.

“Deceit.” Virgil’s voice was shaky, but he focused of keeping some semblance of confidence to it. “I need you to listen to me. It’s going to be okay.”

Deceit locked his gaze on Virgil, his arms shaking violently.

“We’re going to focus on our breathing, okay?” Virgil led him through a breathing exercise, which led to Deceit taking in one long, shaky breath, and coughing it out in a painful wrench, the fear levels in the room spiking.

Virgil wasn’t usually one for physical contact, but if he didn’t calm down the liar soon, Virgil himself was going to start loosing his mind. “Dee, can I hold your hand? You’re not alone.”

Deceit’s left hand pulled away from his chest, but he was struggling to move it more than an inch away from him. Virgil reached out, and took the shaking hand, squeezing it. Sensory stimulation would likely partially distract the distressed Side.

“Breathe with me.” Virgil repeated firmly, raising his palm on this inhale, and lowering it on the exhale. The pressure in the room eased up as Deceit’s breathing evened out, and it was as if for the first time, the room had light. “Better?”

Deceit nodded, slowly dragging himself into a sitting position. “Much.”

This struck Virgil as odd.

The answer he expected was “not at all” or “no thanks to you”, blatant lies that fooled no one, and got his meaning across. There was the possibility that Deceit was weaving a more intricate lie, but Virgil knew that he _was_ feeling much better. The tugging on his heart had stopped altogether, and the only unease in his stomach was caused by the lack of deception.

Time to test his theory.

“What happened?” He prompted, leaving plenty of room for Deceit to spin some grand tale based off of anything but reality. 

Instead, Deceit struggled to find words, and after stuttering and stumbling, he just shrugged. He looked conflicted, confused, and a hint of alarm burned through his brown eyes.

Brown eyes. _Eyes_ , plural.

“Deceit? Are you… changing your appearance at all?” Virgil didn’t know what sort of reaction he expected, or if he would believe whatever the liar said, but what he definitely didn’t expect was the look of shock and confusion that adorned the other’s face. “Your… your eyes are both brown, Dee. No snake-eye.” Virgil elaborated, trying to ease the other’s confusion.

Said confused eyes morphed into shock-horror. He blinked slowly, and looked at Virgil again, dismayed. “I don’t even know if you’re lying to me…” 

The admittance was barely a whisper, but it stopped Virgil’s heart cold.

He took a deep breath, reassuring himself that this statement could be a lie.

The emo boy pulled his compact out of his hoodie pocket. He rarely showed others the small mirror, in fear of being teased, but found not having to focus on summoning one every time he felt the urge to fix his eyeshadow very practical. Holding the reflective surface up to Deceit, he carefully watched the other’s expression.

Dismay, horror, fear. Deceit’s brown eyes glazed over, and Virgil jumped back into action, calming down the liar who was _definitely not lying_. 

Virgil didn’t know what to do. He could continue to help Deceit fight off the fear, prolong the panic - but beyond that? He was a problem identifier, not a problem solver. That was Logan.

“Do you want me to wake the others? Logan will know what to do.” Virgil kept his voice calm, low, and steady. He would forever be thankful that Thomas was such a good actor - all of his Sides got a little bit of that talent, even though Roman got most of it.

Deceit’s eyes widened. “I don’t want to bother them.” Virgil couldn't quite read his voice, but his gloved hands wrapped themselves around the Anxious Side’s arm, preventing him from leaving.

Virgil nodded, fully understanding that sentiment. “Okay. It’s okay.”

He carefully helped Deceit up, supporting his weight so that the snake would not have to rely on his shaky legs. Virgil made a split second decision, and lowered Deceit into Patton’s armchair.

He really didn’t want anyone taking the safe space that was his beanbag away from him, and was certain the Paternal Side would not mind his seat being used to help someone in distress.

When the others woke up, they would help.


	2. Warm Colours and Cold Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton and Logan wake up, allowing Virgil to relax.  
> Patton wants to help someone in need, but is not sure how.

Patton’s window had brightened far past the dusty false-dawn light when Virgil started to notice signs that the others were awake. After the slight orange glow of sunrise had ebbed away, after the colour had retreated back through the gaps of the curtains that he had found Deceit curled under, he noticed them.

At first, it was just a noise or two. Those couldn’t be considered proof, Virgil noted, as he often projected incorrect conclusions to random noises.

Beyond those slight indications of life deep within Thomas’ brain - the hallway light had been turned on, which, presumably did not happen all by itself.

He glanced over at Deceit, curled up and shaking in Patton’s chair. The frightened side had finally fallen asleep sometime after false-dawn - something Virgil wished he had done. Alas, he would be exhausted today. His inability to sleep was a curse, and a- well. No. It wasn’t a gift, so. Probably just a curse, then.

Virgil’s gaze settled back on the figure curled in the chair. They hadn’t spoken much since Virgil had assisted him, but that was fine. Virgil was accustomed to the silence.

The chill of the night - the chill of fear - had lessened, the “sun” warming the room ever so slightly. It was still cold enough that Virgil huddled into his hoodie, arms crossed at he kept watch.

Deceit was either shaking with fear, or cold. It was hard to tell since he was asleep, but either way, Virgil couldn’t help more than he already had.

Patton blearily stumbled into the room, eyes half closed on his way to the kitchen. It looked like he ran mostly on autopilot, making tea for himself and coffee for Logan. Virgil let him finish his task before speaking.

“Patton.” A simple utterance of a name. No meaning, no emotion. It said everything. Patton looked up, no longer asleep, mug falling out of hand back onto the counter less than an inch away - no damage done to either.

“Kiddo, what’s up? Why are you awake? Why are you… here? You usually stay in your room this early.” Patton laughed, badly hiding his concern with a convincing grin. Virgil could feel it joining his own in the air. He nodded in the direction of Patton’s armchair.

The father-figure’s face drew together with confusion as he walked out of the kitchen to get a better angle of his chair. When he did, his step faltered, and he froze. He stuttered the beginning of a few words, not quite settling on any in an attempt to find the right question.

Virgil summed up the situation for him as Logan walked into the room. “Found him terrified last night. Full-blown panic attack. I don’t… I don't think he can lie.” This statement caught Logan’s attention, and the aspiring detective came over to observe, coffee mug in hand.

“Can’t lie? Can you elaborate?”

“I asked if he was less scared, and he said yes, but I know he told the truth because he _was_ less scared. Similar stuff for a while longer.”

Logan nodded, then went back to inspecting the sleeping side.

“One more thing.” Virgil added, leaning back into his beanbag. “Both his eyes are brown.”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up as he turned back to Deceit’s curled up figure.

Patton shooed Virgil away to go sleep after the insomniac suppressed a yawn, and despite all his protests, Virgil could barely keep his eyes open.

 

Logan had seemed lost in thought for what seemed like forever, just staring Deceit, idly sipping his coffee. 

Patton could see the puzzle pieces clicking into place in his mind. Trial and error, finding where the pieces didn’t fit, finding places where they did, or setting them aside until there was more information. Logan’s face stayed impassive, but his eyes told a story, betraying his thoughts.

Patton was growing impatient. He knew that Logan needed quiet time to think, but he wanted to help. He wanted to be involved.

Patton sat on the floor, leaning against the side of his occupied chair, fiddling with the sleeves of his cardigan in an attempt to distract himself from interrupting Logan’s train of thought.

The silent room seemed to press down on him, echoing through his mind like a gust of wind. The quiet screamed in his mind, and it said nothing.

The father figure got up, and walked to the kitchen - evenly measuring his steps so as not to distract Logan. So as to keep himself distracted.

Someone was hurting, and there was nothing he could do. Logan was taking care of the problem, which meant that he couldn’t interfere.

Sometimes the best thing to do was nothing at all, but that was _hard_.

Patton tried to distract himself by doing anything - _everything_ in the kitchen, but he kept finding his attention back on his armchair, on Logan’s face. He found his feet taking him to the chairs, and had to stop himself, over and over, from proceeding. From getting in the way.

“Patton.” Logan’s voice drew his attention away from his firmly planted feet.

“Yeah, Logan?” Patton hoped Logan didn't notice the slight waver in his face. Forced his hands to busy themselves in the kitchen.

“I can tell you have questions.”

Patton wasn't sure if he did, but he was glad for the opportunity to be included. He set down the glass he had been cleaning, and attempted to help. “Do you think he… really can’t lie?”

Logan considered this for a moment. Patton knew that the question had probably made its way through Logan’s mind many times prior, but he considered it over again, purely because Patton had asked. It made Patton’s heart warm.

“I don’t see any reason why Virgil would spin a falsehood about that. Although, for now, we can only assume. More data is needed before a conclusion is to be drawn.” Patton nodded, slowly making his way before the curled up figure.

“And if he can’t… what does that mean?” If Deceit could no longer serve his purpose, to lie, to pull curtains over Thomas’ consciousness - what would happen to him? What would happen to Thomas?

Logan’s face remained impassive as he stood up and made his way to the sink, empty mug in hand. Logan often showed his emotions through actions, rather than expressions, Patton knew. 

“It depends. We can’t say for sure, yet.” 

The mug had been empty for quite a while now.


	3. Normalicy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deceit wakes up.

When he awoke, it was not with confusion, as it usually was. Books always regaled about how after waking up, the protagonist had a lapse of not knowing where they were, or what had happened prior.

Usually, Deceit experienced the same thing for a few seconds after his brain switched on, but today it was with perfect clarity that he opened his eyes.

He was in Patton’s armchair. Virgil had put him there the night before, putting his distaste for Deceit aside in order to assist him to _breathe_. This was unlike him, Deceit remembered. Virgil never cared about anyone other than himself. He would always help others through their problems.

Deceit blinked, realising that his thoughts had just contradicted themselves.

A spider’s job is to know which strands of web are safe to walk on, and which are deathtraps. A master of deception should never get caught in his own web of lies. Deceit felt suffocatingly trapped in his own mind.

He forced himself up, sitting as quietly as he could. It was not quiet enough.

“Hey, kiddo! You’re up!” Patton’s sickeningly sweet voice seeped into his mind, sugar-coating his thoughts. Obscuring what he knew.

Patton. The side’s (adoptive) Father Figure. Very opinionated about what is right, and what is wrong. Used to sing lullabies to Deceit, when his mind was far too active to sleep.

Deceit was no stranger to his mind playing tricks on him, his thoughts being corrupted by fabrications. Usually, though, he knew the difference between fiction and reality.

If there had been a lie in that - which of course there was, he was Deceit - it would likely be the statement about lullabies. Although Deceit could imagine Patton singing lullabies to the others, surely he would not be a part of that group. He would never be part of the family.

Yet the song that Patton hummed as he brought Deceit a cup of cocoa felt hauntingly familiar.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I figured that cocoa was a good middle ground. Will this do?” Patton’s smile was blindingly bright, Deceit couldn’t focus to read into the words.

_Of course not. I despise cocoa._ He opened his mouth to say this, and found the word “Yes” coming out, softly - accompanied by a smile. _Traitorous mouth._ Deceit took the cocoa, marvelling at the little marshmallows floating on top of the brown liquid, melting and falling apart ever so slowly.

As he sipped his hot drink, another figure entered the room. He was dressed in white and red, and the word ‘flamboyant’ came to mind. Roman. The two made eye contact - just for a second, one that felt like minutes - before Deceit looked away.

Roman’s steps did not falter until he stopped next to Patton, slinging an arm over the Paternal Side’s shoulders. This display of physical contact was very common.

“Oh! Roman, Deceit is -” Patton began before he was cut off.

Roman held a hand in front of Patton’s face, hovering a few inches away. “I know. Logan informed me.” The hand hovered a few seconds more than it probably needed to, before swinging back to his sides.

Deceit blinked hard, trying to stop the thoughts in his head from swimming around, telling him conflicting facts, and whispering dark thoughts. His head was a whirlwind, thoughts spinning at velocities that he couldn’t keep up with. If this kept going, then he’d develop a headache for sure.

“You okay, kiddo?” Patton was hovering above him, too close, too sweet. Deceit caught his reflecting in Patton’s glasses - disgustingly normal. 

Patton’s eyebrows drew together, and Deceit remembered that he hadn’t answered the question.

Was he alright? Of course not, his head was spinning, he looked _human_ and he was surrounded by people he barely knew, people who had outcasted him. He was fine.

Deceit opened his mouth to tell Patton this, to say just how _fine_ he was - but all that came out was a pathetic, whining, creak. The words were stuck in his throat. He tried again, but was met with a silence produced in the deepest parts of him. A quiet that he was always running from. The creeping silence often overtook him, late at night. Weighing him down, turning his bones to lead.

Deceit tried a different approach, a nonverbal way of dismissing the question. He focused on his shoulders, trying to draw them up to his ears. All that resulted in fighting his muscles was them coming forwards, together. His attempt at a shrug had turned into a slouch. Deceit scowled at his body’s lack of obedience.

This seemed to concern Patton, who drew the  ~~ snake ~~ side into a hug, humming. He smelled of sugar, and he was warm. Deceit found himself leaning into the hug, even as he tried to pull away.

His bunched up muscles relaxed, and his mind screamed that _THIS WAS NOT NORMAL_.

Deceit was not the sort of person who enjoyed hugs. He never had been  ~~ (hugged, that is) ~~ .

“C-can I have a mirror?” Deceit did not know why he had spoken. Did not know why he had stuttered. All he knew was that the words rose out of him, nestled into Patton’s warm cardigan.

His eyes opened. He did not recall closing them.

Patton pulled away, and Deceit struggled not to lean back in. The cold rushed into fill the gap, and he felt a whine building inside his throat. It quelled as Patton climbed onto the armchair beside him, keeping that warmth close.

“Sure, kiddo.” Deceit watched as Patton’s eyes flickered to Roman, and the Creative side strode over, waving a hand and producing an elaborate mirror in front of the two.

Roman might then have said something to dismiss himself, but Deceit was unsure, because the mirror stole all of his attention.

He looked at the figure beside Patton, at his plain face, flat, dirt-coloured eyes, and his downturned lips. He looked at the figure, swaddled in a light grey blanket.

Deceit stared at the figure that was not him, trying to conjure the things that he knew - the scales, the smile, his eyes.

He tried again, and again, and again. His eyes burning every time they opened to be confronted yet again with a pathetic, ordinary side, with Thomas’ face, but nothing else familiar about it. 


	4. Stationary Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil checks on his companions.

When Virgil arose from his slumber, Roman was waiting for him. The immediate presence of another in the hallway startled him, causing him to stumble back before catching himself on the doorframe.

Roman was sitting against the wall, elbows resting on his upright knees, one hand dangling in thin air, and the other idly scrolling through something on his phone. The light of which cast a soft glow on Roman’s face as he glanced up at Virgil.

“Hi.”

Virgil was really starting to question wether everyone today was going to give him an out of character response to something. Usually, Roman was loud and boisterous, not silent and still.

“You okay?” Virgil was surprised by his own bluntness.

“Yes, yes - I’m fine.” Roman stood up, pocketing his phone. He sounded more like himself, now.

Virgil’s first thought was that this was Deceit, masquerading as Roman, but a quick glance down the corridor saw him in Patton’s chair, looking into a mirror as Patton sat beside him, attentive.

Roman followed Virgil’s gaze, “He’s been at that for hours, now. That room’s too dark and gloomy - and boring. I suppose I was kind of hoping you would be less so, when you woke up.” Virgil looked at him skeptically.

“You came to me… for _less_ dark and gloomy?” Roman looked sheepish. “I… I need to check on Deceit, first.” 

Roman nodded. “I’ll be here.”

 

At first, Virgil had tried to catch Patton’s eye to ask how Deceit was doing, but the father was giving his full attention to Deceit, who was transfixed on the mirror.

Virgil ended up attaining Logan’s attention, which was typically not an easy thing to do.

“How is he?”

Logan glanced at Deceit, “Keep in mind that I’m not the best with emotions, however I can accurately say that his attention has not left his own reflection in the 231 minutes I have been here, and I am reliably informed that Roman created the mirror over 15 minutes before that time. If it were Roman, I would say that this behaviour is a narcissistic act, however, judging by Deceit’s change of appearance, it is likely that this is one of denial.”

“As in… he doesn’t believe that he looks different?”

Logan tilted his head a fraction to the side. “Almost. He doesn’t _want_ to believe.”

Virgil and Logan watched the almost freeze-frame set in front of them. A whole room frozen in time for a whole five seconds, before Virgil decided to go see Roman again. He’d gotten a strange feeling from the usually dramatic side.

Making his way back towards his room, Virgil found that Roman was true to his word - the creative side was exactly where Virgil had left him, softly humming to himself as he tapped on his phone’s screen.

“Sup?” Virgil said as he leaned back against the hallway wall, shoulders more or less lined up with his friend’s.

“Not enough people are incorporating red and yellow together in colour palettes, which is truly a travesty.” Roman glanced down the hallway, towards the common area. “How is it, down there?”

Virgil thought for a second about what the best word to describe the room would be. “Depressing.”

The sunlight streaming through the curtains had done nothing to chase away the shadows in the room.

Roman nodded, understanding held in his eyes. Said eyes met Virgil’s, eyebrows raising, “Shall we?” Roman gestured down the corridor, away from their friends, away from Deceit.

Virgil pushed himself off the wall, and prepared to follow Roman to the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short, guys!  
> I'll try and write longer chapters in the future, but this was the natural ending point.


	5. The Flow of Emotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton helps Deceit sort through his feelings.

Patton held on to the too-still figure that sat in his armchair. The grey blanket wrapped tightly around Deceit’s torso as he stared at the mirror. His shoulder pressed into Patton’s chest, radiating Deceit’s feelings through him. The feelings flowing and dancing around his heart.

Patton always seemed more whole when he felt the emotions of others. As if by only feeling his own, he was incomplete. 

In times like these, when the feelings of another that flowed through him were that of conflict, despair, or similar negative feelings, Patton felt guilty that he felt better for it.

He reached inside, and kept a tight grip on that guilt. If he was not careful, the feeling could slip away, and make a home in Deceit. Patton didn’t think the poor snake could handle any more weight on his heart, and so he kept it locked away, trying to ebb contentment and a sense of wholeness into Deceit.

He knew his influence was helping Deceit. He had felt the side relax when he touched him. Patton was of the opinion that there wasn’t much a good hug couldn’t fix, and of course, giving a small nudge to the other's emotions probably helped, too.

Patton felt guilty for manipulating the feelings of another. He always did - most people saw feelings as a private thing, and while the father figure could not stop himself from feeling the emotions of others, he could prevent himself from altering them.

There were times, however, when watching someone in pain was just too hard for Patton to justify not helping them. This was one of them. 

While Deceit looked into the mirror, Patton looked to his interior. Entered the realm of Deceit’s emotions, tuning out the rest of the world, and focusing on what he was good at - the feelings.

Patton knew that it was rude to do this without gaining permission, and he wasn’t entirely sure why he didn’t ask for it. Wasn’t sure why he searched for justification for his less than moral actions.

For now, though, someone was hurting - and he could help. So help he did.

 

His eyes had bored into every surface of his face, every shadow, every edge. He had stared at every freckle, hoping for some change. For the return of the face that he knew.

Longing for what he had lost - his smile, his scales, and his unique eye - the defeated Side’s eyes settled on their own reflection.

They say the eyes are a window to the soul, and though he had never believed that, within the depths of his, the lost and frightened boy seemed to find some understanding of himself.

He had always been Deceit, the liar, the one who obscures. He could no longer convince himself that he was not loosing that identity. Could no longer pretend that Deceit was who he was.

Thomas had cast him out, decided that a liar was not who he was. That he was moral, and just, and kind.

He had been lying to himself, to think that Thomas would keep someone like him around. To think that Thomas loved him.

Thomas barely knew him - he had always hated lies. 

Of course he was the outcast.

The unloved.

The one destined to be alone. 

Even when they were young, Deceit had never felt like he fit in with the others. He had ignored that feeling, even as they ignored him, excluded him, sent him away to play by himself. To make excuses, all by himself. To create lies, all by himself.

He had pushed the loneliness, the alienation away in favour of making himself useful. Of keeping Thomas safe.

Thomas had never liked Deceit’s ways, and now, Thomas had gotten rid of him. Thomas. The one he loved more than anything. The person he had sworn to protect. Thomas, whom the young snake had spent time with, when no one else would spend time with him.

Years of staring through Thomas’ eyes, seeing the world as he saw it. Years of spending time with the young boy when the other sides were too distracted to.

Years wasted.

Deceit closed his eyes, tightly shutting out the reminder of his failure. Of his worthlessness. He couldn’t forget, though. Couldn’t force himself to believe that Thomas loved him, or that who he was would ever come back.

He was stuck like this.

Pulling the grey blanket tighter around him, he looked away from the mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahahaaa I said I'd write longer...  
> Hopefully the fast update makes up for the lack of majorly improving length.


	6. Puzzle Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan thinks about the current situation, and consults Thomas to sort out his thoughts.

Logan had been watching his fellow Sides from the sidelines. Allowing them time without his influence to do whatever they pleased while he attempted to figure out what was happening with Deceit.

The logical Side did not have high levels of trust for the compulsive liar, however he had yet to find much evidence corresponding to his distrust, thus proving it illogical.

Virgil and Patton both seemed fairly convinced of Deceit’s situation.

Taking into account the fact that both of them could read the emotions of others, that was evidence towards Deceit’s predicament being real. Then again, he could lie about his feelings. Surely it wouldn't be hard for an actor as talented as Deceit, a facet of _Thomas_ to manipulate his emotions enough to fool the empaths.

Then again, Logan really didn’t know much about emotions. He couldn’t count on his assumption to be correct, as it was not even so much as an educated guess.

Roman, on the other hand, didn’t seem overly invested in the snake who had found his way into their living room. Meaning that two out of the four main sides trusted him, and two didn’t.

Historically, trusting Deceit was a bad idea, but the evidence all pointed towards doing so.

Trusting someone who always lied could not possibly be a good idea, and Deceit _always_ -

Logan blinked, cutting his own thought short. Deceit didn’t always lie. That was a logical fallacy. Deceit obscured truths, yes, but if he lied 100% of the time then those around him would adjust, and he would no longer be obfuscating fact. 

They had been operating under the assumption that often whatever it was that Deceit said, he meant the opposite. Either that, or he was hiding something.

That couldn’t be the case, though. In order to be truly deceitful, some of what he said had to be truth. The assumption that Deceit _always_ lied was one that Deceit had encouraged, to obscure the fact that he told the truth occasionally.

This theory of his couldn’t be fully proved, of course - yet it had less holes in it than his prior one did, so Logan concluded that this should be the basis of his thought process until evidence suggested otherwise.

Logan’s perception of Deceit was shifting, clouded by unsure thoughts. He was struggling to focus on the predicament the side was in, and his thoughts in general were swimming.

When Logan couldn’t focus, he often found it best to go to Thomas.

Standing up from the same spot Logan had been in for hours, Logan made his way out of the living room - away from the eyes of Patton and the bundle in his arms - and rose up to see Thomas.

 

It had occurred to him on the way there that Thomas did not know of Deceit’s situation, and that it might be beneficial to not alert him to the issue.

Sometimes if Thomas knew of a problem, things became more complicated, and the problem was not, as far as Logan was aware, urgent.

“Oh, hi Logan!” Thomas said as he rose up by the stairs, “Didn’t expect you to pop by. Everything alright?”

“Indeed,” Logan assured him, “as far as I am aware everything is up to standard.”

“Just you?” Thomas asked, making his way from the kitchen to the couch.

“It appears so.” Thomas appeared intrigued, so Logan offered more information. “I believe that Roman and Virgil are off doing something together, and Patton is in the main room of the mindscape,” - taking care of Deceit - “I’m not sure what he’s doing, but he appeared joyous last I saw him.”

The falsehood slipped out of him, and his thoughts scrambled around it, wrapping the omission and the false words up, storing them away. Logan faltered for an almost imperceptible moment, worried that Thomas would catch the lie and focus on it rather than Logan’s problem.

Thomas didn’t. “Virgil and Roman are hanging out?” He smiled fondly. “I’m really glad those two are getting along.”

“Yes, it is fortunate.” Logan agreed. According to his calculations, the friction between those two had caused production to falter and move slower than he was comfortable with.

Thomas sat down on the couch and searched for the remote as he slowly snacked on food that he had retrieved from the kitchen.

“Thomas, I had been meaning to talk to you about-” Logan faltered again, for just a moment. He wasn’t sure what to say. He had wanted to clear his thoughts, however he didn’t know how to say that to Thomas. If he misspoke, it was possible that he would accidentally reveal what was happening with Deceit, which would cause Thomas to worry. 

Virgil was already worried enough about the matter, it would complicate things to cause Thomas to worry as well, as it would increase Virgil’s disquiet. No, Logan decided, it would not do to reveal the current situation to Thomas.

“- Deceit.” Logan’s mouth had, apparently, not caught up to his brain in the split second he had thought the interaction through.

Thomas ceased searching for the remote, and looked up at Logan. “Sure, buddy. What’s on your mind about him?”

Well, it was still possible for Logan to save this interaction.

“I believe we may be thinking falsely about him.”

“Yeah? How so?”

“We have been acting as if 100% of the things that Deceit says are falsehoods, however that was an erroneous assumption of us, and may be damaging in the long run.” Logan’s hands flew around as he talked. Precise movements to accentuate his points. 

He offhandedly wondered how his hands could keep up with the speed of his thoughts.

“Damaging how?”

“I am unsure, as of yet. It is possible that it could be damaging to you, however it is more likely that it would be damaging to him.” Things were starting to fall into place, as they often did when talking to Thomas.

“Damaging to him? I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but… is that really a bad thing? I mean… I’m an honest person. Or, at least, I try to be.” Thomas’ calm unsettled Logan as he recalled the figure curled up in Patton’s armchair.

“Yet Deceit is still important enough to manifest as a side. Let me ask you this, Thomas - do you wish to be an anxious person? Do you like it?”

Thomas started to speak, but Logan cut him off.

“Regardless of Virgil, is Anxiety something you wish to have?”

Thomas paused, glancing at the stairwell. “I don’t exactly enjoy the paranoia, but I think we’ve covered how important Anxiety is for me.”

Logan nodded, “Exactly. I believe that a similar thing is true for Deceit. Each of us influences you, and helps you process the world around you. It is possible that Deceit is helping you in a way none of us know, and causing harm to him would be troublesome.”

“I guess… Just, I didn’t even know about him until recently, Logan.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

Thomas shrugged, unsettlingly calm. “Maybe he was just shy. I dunno.”

The unease that Logan felt was becoming more pronounced. Red flags raised themselves from many places in the half assembled puzzle of his thoughts, problems that should have appeared obvious.

If he was right, then Deceit was-

“Why don’t we just ask him?”

Logan’s systems stopped as both he and Thomas looked towards the window.


End file.
